


kimi’s little pink book

by celestexists



Series: school defense force shenanigans [2]
Category: Fruits Basket (Anime 2019)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, a smidge of internal misogyny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestexists/pseuds/celestexists
Summary: “You’re writing student council notes in that?” Nao-kun demands, eyeing her fuzzy peach-colored spiral journal like it’s not a creature of this world.“You have a problem with pink, Nao-kun?” Kimi asks with a sweet smile.In which Toudou Kimi takes her job as the second-year secretary seriously.
Relationships: Manabe Kakeru & Toudou Kimi, Toudou Kimi & Student Council (Fruits Basket)
Series: school defense force shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104428
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	kimi’s little pink book

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who loved Toudou Kimi at first sight and wanted to see more of her. This is for you.

It starts with a secret rendezvous.

The school is an entirely different beast this early in the morning, when no one is around but the administrative and cleaning staff. Kimi’s footsteps echo in the hallway as she makes her way to the council room.

Yuki is already there. He’s staring outside the window, his hands folded behind his back. He makes a pretty picture, the sunlight soft against his hair, his face.

“Oh, my. We’re all alone now, Yun-Yun,” she purrs as she locks the door.

“Thank you for coming, Kimi,” he says determinedly even as he blushes, so cute that Kimi wants to eat him up with a spoon. “I’d like your help on something. But you can decline, if you want.”

Now Kimi is intrigued. She presses her hands together like a prayer and turns wide eyes up at him. “I’m at your service, leader.”

Yuki nods, then doesn’t say anything. The moment stretches. It comes to a point where Kimi starts wondering if she should give him a little nudge—did he need advice on how to deal with a certain vice-president?—when Yuki breaks the silence.

“Makoto-san told me that one of the reasons he appointed you is because of your excellent interpersonal skills.”

Even more intriguing. “I’m flattered that the former president thinks so,” she gushes, ducking her head. “But if that’s just the criteria for your request, then Kakeru and I are pretty equal in that regard.”

Yuki turns his gaze outside the window again. “But you understand people more.”

It’s a statement, but there’s something hesitant about the words, which piques Kimi’s curiosity even more. Ever since they started planning the Intraschool Social Gathering two weeks ago, something seemed to have settled between Yuki and Kakeru.

Kakeru hasn’t said anything about it, but she’s come to expect that. He’s always so tight-lipped when it comes to their president.

“Well,” Kimi draws out the word. “If you put it that way! So how can Kimi help Yun-Yun?”

Another pause. “It’s regarding the student council,” Yuki answers, turning his back to the window to look at her.

“I’m listening.” Kimi smiles.

—

When Kimi was smaller, her dad told her bedtime stories about Marimi the fox spirit. Sometimes Marimi had red fur, or black fur, or even white fur. Sometimes she had only one tail, and sometimes she had all nine. The stories changed every night, but it was always about Marimi. Kimi’s favorite was about the kitsune befriending humans for the first time.

Marimi lived in a den with her grandfather and her parents. They were protective of her as a cub, but Marimi grew to be charming and cunning as her mother and strong and quick as her father.

One day, while her parents were on a hunt, Marimi slipped past her dozing grandfather to explore the nearby village. At its outskirts, Marimi transformed fur to human skin.

Marimi spent the afternoon playing with children her age, running and laughing with them in the woods. The children had no cause to fear her. They saw past her pointed features and into her wide-eyed curiosity and open heart.

After they parted ways, Marimi left gifts for her playmates and ran back to her den before her parents returned.

But when the older humans saw the dead hens laid just outside the henhouse, they became fearful and forbade their children from playing near the woods.

Marimi was dismayed when she learned this, and decided to bring gifts to the humans from outside the village, hoping this would appease them.

Her bountiful quarry only heightened the villagers’ uncertainty. _Perhaps it is a blessing_ , they said. _But perhaps it is bad luck._

And so they took the hare and built a humble shrine in a grove of woods, out of uncertainty and gratitude. But still they refused to let their children out to play.

Missing her playmates, Marimi was disheartened and tearful. When her parents finally demanded why she was so dispirited, the young kitsune told the story.

_Well, then,_ her father said, even while her mother and grandfather shook their heads in consternation. _You know what you must do._

The next morning, two fox spirits appeared by the shrine. The older, larger kitsune hung back while the smaller red one ran in circles around the villagers who stood still. One of the children hiding behind his parents recognized the pointed features of the red kitsune and yelled in delight.

_It is Marimi! It is Marimi!_

One by one, the children drew nearer to the fox despite their parents’ cries. When their hands made contact with its fur, she transformed into a human.

The older fox spirit told his daughter he will be back by sunset to fetch her, and Marimi agreed. And so it went. Marimi passed her days with her human friends, and spent the rest of her evening with her kitsune family.

When Kimi was older, she tried looking for stories of Marimi in the school library and in bookshops. By the time she finishes middle school, Kimi realized that no one else knew of Marimi except her and her dad.

—

> _Manabe Kakeru: Vice President, Second Year _
> 
> _Kakeru has a horrible fashion sense, he wears his favorite color (green) even though it clashes with his coloring AND the school uniform. He thinks he’s cool as ice, but he’s actually prickly and hot tempered (he’s nothing like the black sentai ranger haha). He likes to needle people, especially people who can hold their own against him. Almost everyone knows and likes him—from the first-years to the third-years. He’s a peacock. He loves attention, but he’s picky about when to show off his feathers._
> 
> _Not sure why he refers to the student council as the school defense force, but Kakeru’s like that. Used to be part of the broadcasting org and football club, but is now totally devoted to said defense force! He also has two (or is it three?) part-time jobs. No wonder he sleeps in school a lot, haha. Don’t ask about his family unless he brings it up first._

—

They’re having a final briefing about the Intraschool Social Gathering before the event officially opens this afternoon when Nao-kun calls her attention.

“Kimi-san,” he barks. She only got him to stop calling her Toudou-san, so ‘Kimi-san _’_ is progress. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She looks up. Kakeru is still pretending to sleep on the table, but he’s turned his head in her direction like he’s also waiting for her response. Yuki has his back to them while he talks about the logistics to one of the booth owners. Machi doesn’t even look up from her own logbook.

“Why, writing my notes, of course,” Kimi says, waving her pen with a flourish.

“You’re writing student council notes in that?” Nao-kun demands, eyeing her fuzzy peach-colored spiral journal like it’s not a creature of this world.

“You have a problem with pink, Nao-kun?” Kimi asks with a sweet smile.

Before Nao-kun can sputter up a response, Yuki turns around to continue briefing them about the event.

After they’ve been dismissed, Kakeru sidles up next to her. “What are you up to, troublemaker?” he asks.

Kimi hums. “Our leader gave Kimi a very top secret mission,” she whispers in his ear.

Kakeru glances down at her, the amusement clear on his face. “Top secret, eh?” he murmurs back. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

When she winks at him in answer, Kakeru grins before he squeezes her shoulder and leaves.

When she spots Nao-kun setting up the registration table, Kimi decides to kill two birds with one stone.

As soon as she enters his field of vision, Nao-kun asks, “What are you doing here?”

“Yun-Yun wants me to help set-up, of course!” Kimi lies breezily. “Wouldn’t want Nao-chan to do all the work by himself.”

Nao-kun bristles at this. “If the President thinks I can’t handle the work by myself...”

She laughs. “Don’t be silly, Nao-chan, everyone knows you’re more than capable.” She sits down on the chair next to him. “But the work will go faster with two pairs of hands, no?”

He accedes to this grudgingly. And true enough, they finish setting up just as students start trickling into the courtyard.

It’s a whirlwind after that. Greeting the students, having them sign in the logbook, telling them what to expect and look forward to in the event, and then making small talk with them ( _I’m Kimi and this is Nao-kun, we’re student council secretaries!_ and _How was your summer break?_ and _The new term is pretty relaxed so far, wouldn’t you say?_ ) Nao-kun remains business-like and quiet whenever someone asks after him in an effort to include him in the conversation.

The event kicks up in an hour, the chattering of the students rising in volume as the music keeps an upbeat rhythm in the background. When they get a lull at the registration booth, Kimi goes in for the kill.

“Phew!” She exclaims, fanning herself with the papers. “Sometimes it still feels like summer, it’s so hot. We did pretty good, right?”

Nao-chan grabs the papers from her. “Those are _documents_ , Kimi-san,” he snaps. Then as he’s stacking the documents, he adds, “We did alright. Could have gone worse.”

Kimi pouts. “Worse because I was with you, you mean?” she asks in a wounded tone. “I’m hurt, Nao-chan.”

If Nao-chan were a cat, all his fur would be standing straight right now, his distress so obvious. “No, I meant,” he says, flustered. “You were fine, I just meant… things could have gone worse. Because they usually do.”

Kimi sniffles loudly, wiping at her dry eyes before glancing at Nao-chan from underneath her lashes. He’s not even looking at her; he’s frowning down at the papers he’s shuffling in his hands.

“That’s true,” she says gently. “But you’re doing great, Nao-chan. And I think we made a good team.”

At this, Nao-chan stops busying his hands with the papers to stare at her. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess so.”

When Kimi leaves him to make the rounds in the courtyard, Nao-chan is a little less stiff and curt, as he greets the new wave of students.

—

> _ Sakuragi Naohito: Secretary, First Year _
> 
> _Nao-chan is just the most precious shortcake! Short and short-tempered, haha. Just as prickly as Kakeru but is really obvious about it (could be why Kakeru likes needling the poor baby). Deeply admires and respects Yun-Yun, though Nao-chan is surprisingly good at hiding that. He doesn’t seem to have a lot of (or any?) friends. But his batchmates know him. Hardworking, smart, top of the class. Eager to please._
> 
> _He’s like a puppy. Barks a lot but definitely no bite. He’s one of those types that expect the worst, but hope (secretly, and deep deep down) for the best. Responds well to positive feedback and encouragement._

—

In almost two years of their friendship, Kimi and Kakeru have only ever fought once. It started during their first term as second-years. When Kuragi Machi enrolled in Kaibara High School.

By this time, Kimi and Kakeru have been inseparable for an entire school year, and Kakeru suddenly dropping her like a hot potato for a _first-year_ nobody is cutting at best and insulting at worst.

At first, Kimi tried to tease him about Machi ( _is she your girlfriend?_ _was she your first love?_ _is she an ex from the city?_ ), but Kakeru just laughed the way he laughed when their classmates used to ask if the two of them were dating. Then she tried to apply more pressure ( _the two of us should hang out with Machi_ and _I barely see you anymore, Kakeru_ and _what do the two of you do together_?). Kakeru just brushed her off, though he got better at giving Kimi the attention she deserves.

That’s when Kimi noticed that he deliberately kept her and Machi apart. It made her wonder what he was like with Machi, that he’d keep that version of himself away from Kimi.

When Kimi finally confronted him about this, he lashed out in a way he’d never done with her before.

_Are you really so lonely that you’re badgering me about what I’m doing with someone else_ , he asked, sounding curious. _Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can be all up my business_.

His wide-eyed, politely inquiring expression didn’t flicker once.

Kimi didn’t bother crying, because Kakeru didn’t deserve her tears, fake or otherwise. Instead, she punched him on the jaw and walked away when he fell down.

They didn’t speak to each other for two days. Then on the third day, on her way home to school, Kakeru walked in step beside her. Machi trailed behind him, her aura just as bland as ever.

“Hey, Kimi,” he said, like nothing ever happened. His jaw still looked bruised, but at least it had stopped swelling. “Do you still have some of your homemade onigiri on you?”

“What makes you think I’d give one to you?” Kimi asked, laughing.

“C’mon,” Kakeru pleaded. “I’ve been telling Machi about how good it is. What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t show her the best of Kaibara?”

Kimi didn’t trip on the sidewalk, but only barely. “As it happens,” she said without missing a beat. “I do have one. Here, Machi.”

Machi took the onigiri with both hands. “Thank you very much,” she said politely.

When Kimi finally looked at Machi, it felt like seeing her for the first time. The familiar shape of her brow, the slope of her nose, the line of her jaw. The same assessing, cutting eyes peeking from a mask of indifference. Or emotion, in Kakeru’s case.

“Hey, what about me,” Kakeru whined, placing his arm around Kimi’s shoulder.

Kimi reached up to pat the unmarred side of Kakeru’s jaw. “You’ll have to grovel a little bit more before I give you anything, idiot.”

And he did grovel, and she did give him more eventually. But the point is, Kimi knows that Kakeru keeps things from her, especially about his family. She’s accepted that, just like Kakeru has accepted that Kimi will always be just a little too curious about everything.

—

One of the last things Kimi’s dad taught her before he left them was how to throw a punch.

_Position your thumb over and behind your middle and index finger._ Ah, darling, her dad had murmured as he peeked through the door, why are you crying?

Kimi had gone straight into her room, because mother didn’t like her crying and throwing tantrums. Her mother wasn’t home now, she’s always out these days, but Kimi made sure.

Her dad sat beside her while she kept crying, and eventually she told him, his hand rubbing her back soothingly as if to coax the words and tears out of her mouth.

_Keep your wrist locked in and aligned with your forearm._ The boy sitting behind her dipped the ends of her braids—her beautiful braids! the two pigtail braids she took an hour styling!—in a small pot of paint. And she hadn’t realized it until the end of class, when she could feel the red paint dripping down the back of her uniform, and everyone was laughing at her.

By the end of the story, Kimi was wailing against her dad’s chest. She had washed the paint off in the bathroom, but it was too late, of course. The entire middle school knew about the incident, and the paint stains on her uniform prove it.

_Maintain the correct stance._ I’m sorry my Kimi’s hair and uniform got dirtied, her dad said, wiping away the stray tears from Kimi’s face, But I can teach Kimi a few tricks so the bullies won’t bother her again. How does that sound?

Kimi spent the rest of the afternoon laughing and mock-boxing with her dad, and by the time her mother got home for dinner, her eyes were no longer red and puffy, and her limbs were jelly from all the activity.

Remember, use the tricks only when you really need it, her dad reminded her after their designated bedtime story. Kimi had laughed and agreed.

_Deliver the final blow._ When Kimi got sent to the principal’s office for breaking her classmate’s nose (the same boy who dipped her braids in paint), her mother was the one who went to school. Her mother looked like a princess, with her soft curls and billowing skirt. She didn’t look harried, even though Kimi knew she had come from a luncheon with friends.

But the gentle smile on her mother’s face is the same one she’d given Kimi when she told her that her dad was never coming back. It never faltered as the principal recounted the incident, even as she apologized for Kimi’s behavior.

She never asked Kimi where she learned how to throw her fists, and didn’t punish or scold Kimi for what happened. She only took Kimi’s wrist in a light grip and then brought them both back home where everything was empty and quiet.

_—_

> _Kuragi Machi: Treasurer, First Year _
> 
> _Machi-chan has a nice complexion, and very pretty hair. Exactly as smart and as sharp as she looks, though her fashion sense is as terrible as Kakeru’s. Prefers to work behind the scenes, and she’s efficient even if she doesn’t talk much. She hates it when a room is neat and perfect._
> 
> _She's like the stray cat Kimi took in as a kid. Mysterious, luminous eyes—check! Tendency to hide in corners, even as they stay in the room full of humans—check! Uses claws if you get too close without permission—check!_

—

The first time Kimi sees Machi being bullied by the Prince Yuki Fan Club, she’s with Kakeru.

“Aren’t you going to do something?” Kimi asks, tilting her head in Machi’s direction.

Kimi recognizes the back of Minami’s head from the uneven pigtails. She’s gesticulating wildly and, even from this distance, Kimi can hear her squeaky, high-pitched voice. There are two younger club followers with her. It’s not enough that Minami’s basically screaming at Machi’s face with her shrill voice, they have to gang up on Machi too. But Machi takes it all in with that patented calm. They might as well be screaming at a wall.

If that were Kimi, she would have wrapped those girls around her pinkie and proceeded to twist them up in knots. If that were Kimi, she would have smiled, and smiled, and smiled.

Kakeru barely glances up, so enamored he is with his deep-fried curry buns. “Machi can take care of herself,” he says around a mouthful of bread. “She doesn’t need me to come to her rescue.”

He’s chewing so loudly, and Kimi can see the food in his mouth as he talks. “You are disgusting,” she informs him as she shoves his head away.

When Kimi glances up, the fan club has dispersed and Machi is already walking away.

The Manabe-Kuragi pair of siblings are interesting, to say the least. They so obviously care about each other, but they take such pains to hide it—not just from strangers, but also from each other. Kimi has noticed the dark look that flashes in Kakeru’s face whenever Machi addresses him as Manabe (as opposed to _Kakeru_ or _nii-san_ ). Then there’s the fact that Machi moved here in the middle of nowhere when it’s obvious she didn’t have to.

Ridiculous, the both of them. If Kimi had siblings, older or younger, she would have openly spoiled them and demanded to be pampered in return.

In any case, the antics of the fan club have only worsened since the appointment of the new student council. On Kimi’s part, the verbal harassment rolls off her back like water and the club must have sensed it too because they’ve backed off. Instead, they honed all their attention on Machi.

This time, Kimi is alone and on her way home. She hears them before she sees them.

“Don’t pretend you’re any better than us!” she hears Minami shriek. “You probably want Sohma-kun for yourself, with that hard-to-get act.”

“I don’t have to pretend,” Machi says evenly. “And you haven’t been paying attention if you think I’m the one after Yuki.”

There’s a low murmur from the other girls. When Kimi peeks around the corner, she sees that they’ve cornered Machi into a corridor and they’ve formed a semi-circle around her. Kimi can’t see Machi but she can easily imagine the expression on her face.

“It’s that second year, isn’t it,” Minami says triumphantly. “That Toudou is a terrible flirt.”

“It’s not Kimi,” Machi replies, so cool and unmovable.

Kimi’s spent enough time with Machi to know that she’s telling the truth. Which means she’s probably seen the way her big brother’s been mooning over their leader.

If anyone were the black sentai ranger in their group, Kimi thinks, it would be Machi. Clever girl.

Kimi enters the stage with this thought in mind, a laugh still lingering on her face. “Oh, my, what’s this,” she gasps delightedly.

The Yuki fangirls blanch when they turn around and see Kimi smiling at them. They leave not long after that, with the usual closing remarks of _you better stay away from Yuki-kun_ and _he’s too good for you, and he’ll realize it_. And Kimi almost feels sorry for them, that they’d devote themselves entirely to someone who doesn’t care if they exist.

“Boo, I thought we were all gonna have a party!” Kimi sighs, walking in step beside Machi. “But maybe they’d be less crabby if you stopped rubbing it in their faces, Machi.”

“Rub what,” Machi hasn’t glanced at her once. If Kimi hadn’t seen the scene earlier and all she had to go on was Machi’s face, she would never have guessed something had happened.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kimi hums thoughtfully. “That you’re better than them.”

At this, Machi finally looks at Kimi. Something shimmers in the light at the turn of Machi’s head. “Would you prefer I act like you?” she asks politely.

Kimi notices the hairpin tucked neatly in Machi’s hair, just above her right ear. It’s not the typical straight, black hair pin. It looks like silver geometric triangles.

“It will make your life easier,” Kimi says.

Machi stops walking and studies her for a long time. But Kimi is used to being studied, and judged, and stared at. So Kimi only smiles.

“I didn’t join the student council because it was easy,” Machi answers. “I presumed you thought so, too.”

When Machi turns away, Kimi sees another hairpin on the left side of her hair.

—

When Kimi was younger, she loved to watch her mother apply makeup. She even had her own little chair beside her mother’s stool by the vanity table.

Her mother moved like a dancer, each step building to the next in graceful twists and turns. The pointed arch of her fingers as she applied cream on her face. The gentle sweep of shimmer over her eyelids. The steady strength of her wrist as she pressed curlers onto her lashes, then quickly followed by mascara. The lightest touch of fingertips to lips, for that soft bloom of rosy pink.

_How do I look?_ Her mother would tease, turning to Kimi for approval.

If Kimi didn’t watch her, she would never know if her mother had makeup or not. She was already so beautiful. But witnessing the routine was like magic, witnessing a subtle sort of transformation.

And this, too, was part of their routine. Kimi pretended to inspect her mother’s flawless face. Then she would nod and smile, _Mama is beautiful!_

Her mother would laugh and hold Kimi’s face. _With a face like ours,_ she always said, _makeup must only enhance beauty, not hide anything._

Over time, Kimi stopped watching her mother and started creating her own makeup routine. She never asked for advice, though her mother gave enough feedback without any prompting ( _try using less mascara,_ _that foundation is too light, this lipstick is quite glossy_ ). Eventually her mother stopped, too, and only looked at Kimi in a vaguely approving way beneath that ever-smiling face.

Kimi never leaves the house with a lash or line out of place.

—

> _Sohma Yuki: President, Second Year _
> 
> _Yun-Yun is the best leader! So princely and pretty!_

—

They reconvene after a month, which they agreed would be enough time for Kimi to collect notes and observations.

Kimi slaps down her fuzzy journal. “Where do we even start,” she exclaims. “I have so much to report to you, Yun-Yun! Naturally, I can’t have you reading through my notes, since some of them are very personal, if you know what I mean. So I’ll be summarizing key points for each of the officers. Who’d you like to start with?”

“Before we start, I just want to thank you again for doing this, Kimi,” Yuki says, seemingly unfazed by Kimi’s opening spiel. “And I wanted to ask, based on what you’ve learned—how do you think we’d be a better and more united student council?”

Kimi taps her chin. “Team-building exercises might help,” she suggests after a moment. “Spending time together outside of the council room, that sort of thing.”

Yuki nods slowly. “Yes, I think we can schedule something,” he murmurs, almost absentmindedly. He bends his head to write something down in his planner.

Kimi clears her throat pointedly. “Yun-Yun,” she says in a honeyed voice. “Would you like me to start talking about my insights now? We can start from highest to lowest rank.”

Yuki peers up at this, his hair falling elegantly over his forehead. “I apologize for getting distracted. We can start with you, Kimi,” he says with a smile.

“What do you mean?” Kimi asks unthinkingly.

“Your strengths, weaknesses, how you get along with the other council members,” Yuki explains nonsensically. “That sort of thing.”

“Oh, my,” she gasps. “Kimi never expected this.”

In truth, she hadn’t been sure if this wasn’t just an elaborate ploy for Yuki to learn more about Kakeru. At the time, Kimi understood (or thought she did) and sympathized; one must learn if one is indeed compatible with one’s crush, after all.

“It’s okay, take your time,” Yuki says, laughing. “But yes, I’d like to learn a little about Kimi, too.”

Kimi is reminded of the time she and Kakeru first met up at the start of the new term. He and Machi met Yuki before any of the other new student council members. When Kimi asked if he was as princely as everyone said, Kakeru grinned and replied, _Yun-Yun’s more interesting than I thought._

She didn’t really get it at first, and she passed it off as Kakeru wearing rose-tinted glasses. But she’s starting to understand.

“Well.” Kimi sits across the table from Yuki and crosses her legs. “We can start with something easy. Like my favorite color.”

Yuki closes his notebook and puts his pen down. This is one of Yuki’s deadliest weapons in his arsenal: the way he pays attention, like the one he’s talking to is the only person in the universe.

“Pink, right?” he asks, gently teasing.

Kimi smiles. “It’s purple.” She wonders if he’ll understand what she’s trying to say.

Something softens in Yuki’s face. Yuki’s bone structure is angular and elegant, and yet he is so openly _kind_. For a moment, Kimi wonders how he does that; that he can easily show such warmth in the furrow of his brow, the line of his mouth.

“Someone told me you liked to play games,” Yuki says carefully. “And that letting you do what you like best, like talking to people and knowing them, is a good way to get to know you too.”

Suddenly, Kimi remembers Kakeru’s amused face from weeks ago. _Don’t have too much fun without me._

“No!” Kimi wails. “You and Kakeru played Kimi? After everything Kimi did for Yun-Yun?”

Yuki smiles sheepishly. “Don’t get me wrong, I really would like your input about the other officers,” he says. “But I knew you wouldn’t include anything about yourself in your report so...”

Kimi bursts into tears to stall for time, and Yuki predictably rises from his seat to console her.

She’s not surprised by Kakeru’s scheming, but she can’t believe she completely underestimated their leader. And the two of them must be working together better than she expected, if they can cook up something like this.

“Maybe,” Kimi sniffles as the last tear trails down her cheek. “We can start with something real instead.”

When she peers up at Yuki through wet lashes, Yuki is staring down at her with a familiar expression. She’s seen it many times whenever all of them in the council are bickering with each other even while they organize the current task at hand.

“Something real,” Yuki echoes in agreement. “That sounds promising.”

It’s then that Kimi realizes that perhaps she doesn’t know Yuki as well as she had assumed. She considers the possibility that there are layers to his earnestness. Terrifying. “Maybe about how I got into the student council, even,” she suggests.

Yuki sits down next to her. His expression is curious and gentle amusement. “I’m listening.”

Kimi nods, wiping her eyes. “It starts with a girl having lunch at the courtyard, enjoying the last of the spring season. Then her idiot best friend gets an idea...”

Later, Kimi will add a few more paragraphs to the bareboned page for Yuki in her journal. Later, Kimi will exact her revenge on Kakeru.

But for now, Kimi tells Yuki something real.


End file.
